I've been hesitant to write because I hate confronting how I should feel. I rarely feel anything these days. I'm just killing time in a blind haze. I thought that I had things under control and that I just had to power through work and apply myself better. I thought that even if I feel worthless and garbage that things will improve overall when it's all said and done with. Even going out and faking a smile became too much for me to handle. I started isolating myself in my work and personal hell at great cost; I lost consciousness behind the wheel one day. I am lucky to have survived but instead I only felt the burden of living. Maybe I still haven't properly processed what happened because I still refuse to talk about it in depth, it's too humiliating.
I saw numbers when I saw the doctor a few days later. I wasn't upset but I felt an itch to continue my ways. Imagine that? I have enough self awareness to know that's mental illness. It only hurts more than it's so ingrained into my very being; a casual liar, a thief, a glutton, slow, useless. It hurts and I cannot stop hurting those around me. I force them to watch this macabre horrorshow for my own satisfaction and comfort. That is why I've grown to resent my life despite the opportunities presented to me. With my luck I've probably managed to fuck that up too. I've been performing poorly and I can't keep up with deadlines.
I started to realize how crippling my anxiety has really become lately, at this rate I'll become agoraphobic. It really doesn't help that riding in the front seat of vehicles puts me on edge now. I can't say I'm ready to get behind the wheel again anytime soon. It doesn't help being reminded how badly I'm struggling; I really am trying the best I can.